she asked how i was going to die,
will you hang yourself?
will you case a bottle of asprin w/ a bottle of vodka?
will you carbon monoxide yourself?
will you slit your wrists and write "fuck you" all over
the bathroom?
or will you walk in to the river?
i thought about all this...
my dead cold body hanging there;
myself with enought corage to press down,
really hard as i drag that blade across my skin;
myself drunk and dieing;
the water filling my lungs,
my final breath;
i saw myself in the garage dieing;
i realized the cold dead look in my eyes,
the stop dead of my body.
i saw myself dead, how, how can i die,
if im all ready dead?
i told her you dont understand, im all ready dead! i have no time for killing myself, i have music to attend to. how would you do it?
she looked at me in udder stupor,
scribled down things i do not know in her notebook,
why? were the words that came from her mouth.
why what??? why would you kill yourself??? why would you fucking ask me that???? fuck you, you dont know!!!
you test me, you make me tell you my thoughts,
you want to get in my head!!...i think you wish you were me.
your shit dosent work im not fucked up i just think,
you think i have a problem,
i know its you that has a problem!!!!
with that i was gone the the "quiet room".
then my meds. dose went sky high.
they sent me home with,
instructions to be sent to that place.
that place is like milk,
so fucking gross, so fucking boring.
i'll go there in a month or two.
im insane, they think.
Reason for writing:
i think this speakes for its self. the mental decay of america, branding "normal people" w/ insanity just cause they think and they say fuck alot.
Birth sign: Cancer
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